


At Christmas, you tell the truth (except you really don’t, apparently)

by Hopeless_Hogwartian394



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, I love these oblivious sapphics, Merry Christmas, Mutual Pining, for the fake-dating for the holidays fics, tis the season
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeless_Hogwartian394/pseuds/Hopeless_Hogwartian394
Summary: Marinette has fucked up. Like big time. She's accidentally told her parents she's dating someone, and now they want her to bring them around for the holidays. Only thing is, Marinette's been incredibly single for, well, a while now.The solution? Its either faking her death and leaving the country, or find someone to fake date for the holidays.The only option? Well. Turns out to be her best friend and house mate, Alya.Cue shenanigans, mutual pining, and some serious obliviousness.





	At Christmas, you tell the truth (except you really don’t, apparently)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seacutie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seacutie/gifts).



> This is my secret Santa gift for seacutie over on Tumblr! This is going to be tropey as hell. And I'm gonna finish it, I swear!
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Marinette has a problem. And not a little, easy to fix with a bit of effort and maybe some help from Alya sort of problem, but a big, massive, unfixable without faking her own death and leaving the country sort of problem. And she can’t leave the country, she’s too damn busy.

Maybe she can just become Ladybug full time. That’d solve all her problems. Yup. She can be Ladybug all the time, and she can avoid the current problem, and everything will be very okay. The thought is incredibly tempting. Alya would probably even cover for her, because she’s that great of a friend. 

But. She did promise her parents she’d be home for Christmas. Dammit. She can’t be Ladybug for Christmas, that would defeat the entire _point_ of secret identities. 

Marinette flops onto the couch and lets out a despairing groan. And then minutes later, another one. Alya comes home in the middle of this, and Marinette can hear her footsteps stop at the door to the living room, as she takes in the scene before her. Moments pass, and then Alya walks over to the couch and just flops on top of Marinette with enough force that she lets out a little ooft upon impact.  

* * *

 

“What’s up, Mari-babe?” She asks, burrowing her head into Marinette's shoulder, her hair tickling her nose and her arms tucking around her waist. The aggressive cuddling makes Marinette feel a little more okay about the world and also her life choices, but only a little.

Marinette takes a deep breath. Alya will know how to fix this, Alya is good at solving problems. If she tells Alya, then Alya will come up with a solution that will satisfy her parents (she hopes). “My mum called today,” she starts, tentatively.  

“Did you say hi for me?” 

“Of course I did.” Alya snuggles closer. “I’m going home for Christmas, this year.” 

“What’s so bad about that?” 

“Um.” 

“...Mariiiiii"

“SomyparentsmightthinkI’mdatingsomeone,” she mumbles out.

“What?” 

“So my parents might think I’m dating someone,” Marinette says, slightly more confidently and only mostly into Alya’s hair. There is a slight pause. 

“What.” Alya’s voice has gone all flat and weird, and Marinette doesn’t like it. “But you’re not dating anyone. I would know. Wouldn’t I?” 

“Of course you would!” Marinette is outraged. “No way would I not tell you!” 

Alya sucks in a deep breath, and Marinette can feel her relax slightly against her. “So why do your parents think you’re dating someone then?” Marinette wriggles nervously. 

“Um.” 

“Marinette” 

“Fine. I mentioned that I’d be going over to theirs for Christmas, because I haven't actually seen them in ages, and my dad got really happy, and my mum asked if I would be bringing anyone home with me.” 

“Oh Mari,” Alya sighs.  

“She said she was worried about me! And that she didn’t want me to be lonely!” Alya lets out a sigh rich in exasperation. 

“Marinette, you didn’t…” 

“What was I supposed to do! I can’t disappoint my mum! She’s my mum!” Marinette wants to wave her hands in the air, but her position under Alya prevents that. She settles for burying her hands in Alya’s hair instead.  

“So now your parents think you’re dating someone, but you’re not.” Marinette can just _hear_ the amusement bubbling beneath her words. “What are you gonna do about it then?" 

“Ask someone to be dating me for the holidays? Like Adrien?” The fact that she can say that without a single stammer or nervousness is a far cry from her lycée days. Alya goes very still. 

“You’re gonna ask someone to date you." 

“Well it's either that or fake my death and leave the country.” Alya seems…tense, as far as Marinette can figure, which is odd, because she can’t see any reason why that might be the case. It wouldn’t even be properly dating, just pretending to for her parents. _Oh_. Alya is probably worried that she might start actually dating someone, and not be properly Alya’s best friend anymore, and that is so not the case.  

“I meant that I’d pretend to date them, Alya, so my parents don't think that I’m gonna die alone or that I lied to them. I promise, you're not going to lose me as your best friend." 

A pause, and then Alya sighs, a funny little exasperated sound that doesn’t really disguise how all the tension has leaked out of her. “How the hell do you always get yourself into such ridiculous situations, Mari?” 

Marinette can’t help the laugh that comment lets loose, both at the thought of the escapades Alya has been party to over the years, and relief that the two of them are still good, that Alya isn’t mad. “Luck, I guess.” 

After that, silence reigns, and Marinette curls herself into Alya’s comforting warmth. She can feel herself nodding off, even though half an hour ago her mind had been too wound up to even entertain the concept of sleep. Alya is probably magic, she thinks sleepily as she drops off. 

* * *

 

Marinette wakes up in her own bed, hours later, her stomach complaining because she fell asleep before dinner. She peers blearily into the darkness, sleep still clouding her eyes and trying to pull her back under. She grumbles slightly, but levers herself up from her sheets and swings her feet to the floor. She has no idea what the time is, but it’s late enough that it’s dark out and the moon is high enough to cast the room in silvery light through her window. It takes a moment for memory to return. 

_Shit_. 

She’s probably slept way past when she was supposed to meet Chat Noir. _Fuck_. She’s not exactly awake enough to spring out of bed, but she does thump onto the floor fairly quickly. Tikki is there waiting, and they transform as quietly as they know how, since Alya is almost certainly asleep.  

Luckily, Chat Noir is still waiting patiently for her, leaping up as she swings in and starts apologising profusely. “I fell asleep, I’m sorry I’m late, it’s been a really stressful day and I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear, I just…” Chat is chuckling gently. This is not the first time he’s been on the receiving end of her frantic apologies.  

“It’s alright,” he laughs, which has her smiling in response. "I haven’t been here very long, it took me a while to sneak out as well.” Chat still lives with his insanely overprotective dad, much as he wants to move out, and so sometimes it takes a while for him to be able to sneak off without the distraction caused by an akuma attack. “But I brought food!” he cries, producing a shopping bag from behind him.  

It’s become something of a tradition between the two of them over the years, to meet up when there isn’t an akuma, and just be friends. It's helpful to have a person who knows absolutely nothing about her life to vent to, and she reckons Chat Noir appreciates her company in the same way. She lays out the picnic blanket that took up half the space in the shopping bag, as Chat pulls out the food and prod her into telling him about everything that’s bothering her.  

“…and I don’t even know who to ask! because I know I said I’d ask one of my friends but all of them have either visited my parents in the last week or my parents would never believe that I’d date them! And it’s not like I want to lie to my parents, but I don’t want them to worry either, and I really don’t know what to do!” 

Chat hums sympathetically from her side. “Have you considered…” 

“I’m not going to ask some complete stranger to pretend to date me!” Marinette almost shouts.  

“Well then, I’m out of ideas.” Chat shrugs easily, catlike grace turning the gesture into a full body movement. “Is there seriously no one you know who your parents haven’t talked to in more than a week?”  

“Only my best friend, since we’ve both been so busy for a while now.” Marinette admits. “But I can’t ask her, she’d never say yes. Besides, she got really judgy about the fake-dating idea, I just know she thinks it’s a bad idea, I can’t ask her.” There’s a little bubble of panic making its way from her chest to her throat, and she starts flapping her hands around her head to try and dispel the nervous energy it’s causing. It doesn’t work very well.  

Chat watches her thoughtfully. She kind of misses the time when he would interject with a witty comment or one of his truly atrocious attempts at flirting. They’ve both grown up, and somewhere along the way Chat appears to have developed his own brand of maturity. It’s mostly appreciated, but right now Marinette could really use a distraction to roll her eyes at. Ah well. At least there’s food. 

She reaches for the food Chat has so thoughtfully laid out in front of them. Good food too, just like always. He’s even remembered to bring her favourite cupcakes, which does admittedly make her feel a bit better. A sigh escapes her as she peels the wrapper from a cupcake, and she starts badgering Chat about his life. Apparently, a friend of his is causing him some grief with her workaholic tendencies, refusing to take a break even when she really should. It’s a welcome distraction to not be talking about her own problems, and she’s grateful for the way Chat elects not to mention the whole mess anymore. 

* * *

 

Morning comes, and with it, the smell of coffee. Marinette wakes up a full 15 minutes before her alarm is set to ring, and instead of rolling over for a few more precious minutes of sleep, she swings blearily up from her sheets and stumbles out to the kitchen, where Alya is already up and dressed and making coffee and toast. _Blasted fucking morning people_. Marinette’s grabby hands earn her her own mug of coffee, but no food, so she has to go rummaging. she manages to dig out some cereal from the cupboard, and after pouring some into a bowl and only a very little bit onto the counter, she counts breakfast preparation a success and settles herself down to eat. 

Halfway through her mug of coffee she’s awake enough to notice that Alya’s barely touched her own breakfast, despite having started eating before Marinette, who is now most of the way through her own bowl of cereal.  

“You okay, Alya?” 

Alya starts slightly, then nods. “‘M fine,” she mumbles. Marinette would love to believe her, but she’s still picking at her toast in a manner that belies too much nervousness to be fine. Marinette would know, she’s been there before many a time.  

“You sure? ‘Cos you don’t look fine.” Marinette pries. Alya will crack eventually, she always does. Maybe Marinette should try the pleading eyes. Or sitting on her lap, that worked unexpectedly well that one time. 

But Alya sucks in a deep breath.  “I’ve been thinking.” And then she pauses. Marinette leans forward slightly. “About last night.”

_Well fuck._

“Youshoulddateme,” Alya bursts out. Marinette, who has just taken a sip of her slightly lukewarm coffee, chokes a little.  

_What?_  

“What?!” 

“Like, fake date me. For the holidays. So your parents don’t know you lied to them.” 

“What.” 

“I just thought… I haven’t talked to your parents in ages either, and it would make sense, wouldn’t it? We know each other well enough to pretend, and I… wouldn’t mind dating- pretending to date you for a bit.” 

Marinette is thrown. Just a little. She never thought that Alya would _volunteer_ to date her, even for pretend. It does make sense, a little, though, since Alya is her best friend, and-  

“Mari?” Alya sounds a little desperate, and oddly vulnerable. 

“What? Oh, um,” Marinette is still processing here, but Alya is looking at her intently, and she really should give her an answer, like, now. “Yeah, sure! If you’re okay with it, I mean. Like, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, I swear.”  

“Mari.” Alya looks relieved, now that she has an answer. “It’s okay, I promise, I want to do this. What're friends for, anyway?” and her mouth pulls sideways a little when she says this, for just a moment. “Besides, it’ll be a week at your parents. I can do that, they love me, and you know it.”

Marinette lets out a relieved chuckle. “Thanks, Als. I would be honoured to have you as my fake-date for Christmas.” She reaches for her coffee, and then hesitates. “We should, um, probably plan a few things. Mum and Dad are going to have so many questions.”  

Alya hums agreement. “How about we do that tonight? I’ll leave early, grab some food on the way home, and we can make flow charts.” Marinette does love a good flow chart. Almost as much as she loves a good fashion sketch or a well sewn seam. 

“Sounds good! I’ll break out my textas and we can make it colourful!” Alya laughs and turns back to her breakfast with renewed vigour. 

“It’s a date.” she says right before she takes a bite out of a slice of toast. And if Marinette's heart jumps a little at the words, well. It’s relief at having a plan that solves her fuckup in a way that gets her out of faking her death and leaving the country, nothing more.   


End file.
